


What Could Have Been

by tlynnwords



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tlynnwords/pseuds/tlynnwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CS AU: Hook is cursed to Storybrooke and lives in the town when Emma arrives in Season One. He is a bartender at the Rabbit Hole and she starts to realize that he is someone that she could open up to - if she lets herself. This story will follow canon as much as possible so I should probably warn readers that I plan there to be plenty of angst. Remember that Hook is cursed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After the Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure this has been done before but I've never come across one. Imagine if Hook was cursed to live in Storybrooke during season one. This chapter starts off right where the Pilot episode ends.

"Welcome to Storybrooke," the innkeeper said as she handed the key to Emma.

"Come on," the brunette said, "I'll show you to your room." Emma followed her up the stairs until she stopped in front of a room marked with a 4 on the door.

"Thanks, … uh-"

"Ruby," the pretty girl said with a smile. "Granny runs the place but I help her out so if there's anything you need just ask!"

"I think right now I'd like to know where I can get a drink," Emma said.

"Well, there's a diner downstairs."

"Anywhere … darker?"

Ruby smiled and Emma thought to herself how much prettier she could be without all the heavy makeup. "There's a place not far from here called the Rabbit Hole. I think it's more what you're looking for. It's close enough to walk to."

"Thanks," Emma said. She put the old fashioned key into the lock. "Don't see keys much anymore."

"Granny likes to keep things classic around here," Ruby explained. She turned to go back down the stairs. "Maybe I'll see you later."

"Oh, is that where you're going tonight?" Emma asked after her.

"It depends how my date goes," Ruby said with a wink.

* * *

Emma was sitting alone for 15 minutes in her the small, cozy room before she got up with a huff and went in search of the bar Ruby had told her about. She had been right; it was close enough to walk to which was nice considering there wasn't much to do in the rented room.

The Rabbit Hole was just what Emma was hoping it would be – dark and nearly empty. It was a Monday night and with no television screens this was not where the town congregated to watch the football game. There was a couple at the pool table that looked like they were more interested in each other than the balls that had clearly been forgotten.

The bar itself was dark wood and impressively stocked. Emma slid into one of the empty stools surveyed the selection of bottles trying to decide what she wanted to order.

"What's your pleasure?" a deep voice with a British accent interrupted her pondering. She turned towards the voice that had just spoke and was not prepared for the man that was tending the bar. He had hair so dark it was nearly black and his chiseled jaw had just the right amount of scruff. Even in the dim light Emma could see that he had startling blue eyes.

"Whiskey. Neat," she said, pleased that her voice didn't betray her.

"Any particular kind?"

"Something strong," she said. "Surprise me."

He regarded her for a moment before flashing a smile and turning away towards the liquor selection. She watched as his right hand passed over a few bottles before settling on one and pulling it off the shelf. He put it on the bar and as he reached for two glasses she noticed that his left hand was prosthetic. She quickly averted her eyes as he placed the empty glasses on the bar.

"I probably shouldn't even be serving you," he said as he began to pour them each a healthy serving of the dark liquor. "I heard you had a little trouble with the law last night."

Emma rolled her eyes. "News travels fast."

"Small town, love."

"I suppose you're going to report back to Regina that I was in here drinking tonight? It seems like the mayor has quite the long reach in this town," she said as she swirled the whiskey in her glass.

"Not me, darling. You can trust that any secrets I learn are kept." He picked up his glass and held it out. She clinked hers against it and they both took a sip. Whatever he had poured it was not cheap and Emma savored the burn she felt in her throat.

"Well, you won't learn any secrets from me," Emma said.

"I'm a bartender, love. You don't need to tell me your secrets for me to find them out," he drained his glass and she found herself slightly mesmerized by the way he swallowed. "I'm quite perceptive and you, my dear, are easy to read."

"Am I?" she asked as he poured himself another drink.

"You decided to stick around this sleepy little town because you are worried about the boy," he said matter-of-factly before taking another sip from the glass.

"That's not perceptive, that is just listening to town gossip," she said. "No doubt the whole town is aware that the horrible woman that gave up her son is in town."

She suddenly felt very self-conscious as the bartender observed her with cool blue eyes for what seemed like an eternity. "You could have just dropped him off and left but you wanted to stay," he said. "To see if he was okay."

"You got me," she said with a smile. She cast her eyes down to her glass and watched her fingers trace the rim.

"Because you don't want him to have the same terrible childhood that you did," he finished. Emma's eyes darted up to meet his. For a moment she was tempted to tell him that he was right; that she needed to see if the kid she gave up was having a better life than she could have given him. His eyes were searching hers, waiting for her to tell him what he had already guessed.

But Emma let the moment pass. She could have poured her heart out to the bartender just like they do in the movies. Instead took another sip of the whiskey and smiled. "So what brought you here?" she asked.

"Into my bar?" he raised an eyebrow as he asked. "You mean besides the overwhelming crowds?" He waved his hand towards the nearly empty room.

"I mean to Maine," she said. "Between you, the sheriff and Mr. Gold I've heard more accents today than I normally do in Boston."

"It's a long story," he said. His expression changed subtly but enough that Emma noticed. "But you'll find that the sheriff and I have very little in common. And Mr. Gold and I even less."

"Sounds like there's more to the story there," Emma said in a teasing tone.

"Nothing of consequence," he said sharply.

Emma took the hint. If she wasn't going to talk about her life it really wasn't fair to ask him about his. She took another long sip of the drink he had poured.

"This tastes expensive," she commented.

"It is," he replied casually. "But you needn't worry about that. This one's on the house."

"Nice try," she said as she finished the glass and stood up from her seat. "I'll pay for my own drink, thanks."

"If the lady insists," he said with a mocking bow. "You owe me $40 for that glass."

"Next time I'll be more specific about what I want," she said as she pulled out her wallet and tossed the money onto the bar.

"Until that time then, love," he replied. "I think you'll find that I have anything you could possibly want right here."

He paused for a moment and then waved his hand in the direction of the bottles. Emma rolled her eyes again but couldn't help a small smile as she headed for the exit.

* * *

Emma stopped in the diner for a late night grilled cheese before heading back to her room. Once the door was closed she tossed her red leather jacket onto a chair and peeled off her jeans. She was awake for hours thinking about Henry and the strange set of events that made her stay in this town. Once again she silently promised herself that she was only here to make sure that he was okay and hopefully even happy.

She finally drifted off to sleep and that night she had the most vivid dream of sailing on a pirate ship. She was in the middle of the ocean with the wind in her hair and a smile on her face.

"You'd make a hell of a pirate."

Emma turned to see who had spoken and just before she could see who it was she awoke in her room with a start. Sunlight streamed into the room and Emma went to the window to see that the town was already bustling with activity.

She needed coffee.


	2. Episode 1x02

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the scene in Regina's office when Henry overhears Emma say the idea of the curse is crazy. Basically a missing scene before she goes to Mary Margaret's door to pay back the bail money.

"You have no soul. How in the hell did you get like this?" Emma said as she stormed out of Regina's office.

She pushed open the door and took a deep breath of the crisp New England air. The late autumn evening was already dark and the air was cold but Emma could practically feel the blood boiling within her. The woman was insane. She knew that Henry was going to listen to that conversation. How could someone intentionally hurt their kid like that?

She raked her fingers through her hair and wondered if she was to blame. Taking a chainsaw to the apple tree had perhaps been a bit too extreme but she had felt like she needed to prove that the mayor might be able to frighten everyone in this town but she was not going to scare Emma. She'd been through a lot tougher situations than this one and come out okay.

But this wasn't about her … it was about Henry. And now he was hurting. Dr. Hopper had warned her about how damaging it would be if Henry were to hear her call this storybook idea crazy and now he had heard exactly that. Emma was so concerned with trying to help Henry that she hadn't thought to consider if maybe she was only making it worse. He was convinced that she was going to break this curse that he had imagined. Maybe staying here was only making the fantasy more real to him.

She made up her mind. Emma had made a choice ten years ago to have no contact with her son and she had to stick to that. Staying was a bad idea. She had a life to get back to. A good life.

Emma glanced at the clock tower and saw that it was just after 5:00. She hoped that the bank was still open.

* * *

Luckily the hours on the bank told her that she had until 5:30 to make the withdrawal she needed. The teller handed her a thick envelope with the money that she needed to pay back Mary Margaret. She needed to drop off the money and then get the hell out of this town. Clean breaks were always better. No goodbyes, no mess.

"Robbing the bank now, are we?"

Emma was so deep in her own thoughts she hadn't even noticed that someone was right outside the glass doors of the bank. Not just someone, the bartender from The Rabbit Hole.

"Just making a withdrawal," she said flatly. She really wasn't in the mood for this.

"With your recent crime spree I just naturally assumed," he said. The corner of his mouth tilted up and she couldn't help but give a halfhearted smile in return.

"Funny you should say that," she said. "I'm just paying back the person that bailed me out and then I'm getting the hell out of here."

"Leaving?" he asked. His eyebrow raised and he tilted his head a bit. "I take it you've decided the boy is in good hands, then?"

"It's … complicated," Emma said. "I don't do complicated."

"I see," he said. Something about the way he said it infuriated Emma all over again. His blue eyes felt like they were seeing all the secrets that she was trying desperately to hide.

"Look, I gave him up ten years ago and I'm not even supposed to be here," she said frantically. "He's obviously having a rough time but he'll get over it, you know? He seems like a normal kid with an active imagination and his mom is clearly very protective of him but at least he's got a stable home and someone who wants him -"

She stopped talking suddenly when she realized that she was just rambling to justify her decision.

"You think leaving is what's best for him?" the handsome stranger asked.

"It's not really any of my business," she said in an even tone. "And it's definitely not yours." She paused and looked at the clock tower again. "If you need to go to the bank you'd better go inside, they close in a couple minutes."

"Don't worry about me, love," he said; the teasing tone was back in his voice. "The pretty little teller is always open when I need her."

Emma rolled her eyes at the obvious innuendo. "Well, good for you," she said. "I've got to go now. It's a long ride back to Boston."

"I guess this is goodbye," he said. "A shame, really. We don't get many visitors here."

"Not even in the fall?" Emma asked. "I'm surprised. This town seems like exactly what the leaf peepers would be looking for."

"As far as I can recall you are the first visitor we've had in ages," he said. "But alas, apparently our town doesn't have the charm you were in search of. Safe travels, milady."

"Emma," she said without thinking. She had no idea why she told him her name. She was leaving and he probably already knew it.

"Emma," he repeated. The way he said her name was like nothing she had ever heard before. It was as though his mouth was caressing the syllables. He smiled and put his hand out. "Nice to meet you. Killian Jones."

She took his hand and shook it. His handshake was strong but she had expected that. What she hadn't expected was the way her stomach flipped when their hands met.

She pulled her hand away a little too abruptly and put it in her back pocket. "Well, I have to drop this off to Mary Margaret before I go. I have an address but would you be able to point me in the direction where she lives?"

"Her loft is just down the street," Killian said. He motioned with his prosthetic left hand and Emma realized she had forgotten all about that. She suddenly had an intense desire to know how he had lost his hand but she knew that was hardly an appropriate question to ask.

"Thanks," she said.

"Always happy to help a fair maiden," he said with a wink. Before she could answer he had swung open the door to the bank and disappeared inside.

Emma suddenly felt a feeling that she hadn't had in a long time but she shoved it out of her mind before she could even name it. Feelings like that were useless, especially since she was leaving town. She gripped the envelope in her hand and turned in the direction of Mary Margaret's apartment. This one loose end could be tied up and then she could get back to her life and start forgetting this town and everyone in it.

With every step she took she could feel her resolve crumbling. She had dared Regina to make her next move. She may have tricked Emma into hurting Henry but what kind of mother intentionally would hurt her son. Maybe leaving now wasn't what was best for him. She didn't know what was right anymore.

She ran up the stairs to Mary Margaret's door and knocked.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that since Killian goes by Captain Hook in the Enchanted Forest that he could use the name Killian Jones as his alter ego in Storybrooke. I didn't want to call him by any other name.


	3. Episode 1x03

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scene between the hospital and Emma going to Mary Margaret's apartment to see if the room was available.

_Because not having someone? Well, that's the worst curse imaginable._

Regina's words kept echoing in Emma's head. She knew she should let the mayor get to her but she really didn't need the reminder that she had been alone pretty much her whole life. She was already dreading the thought of spending another night in the bug and she found that her feet didn't want to take her to her car. She wanted to go somewhere else.

The Rabbit Hole had a few more patrons than the last time she visited but it was still fairly empty. Killian was already pouring her some whiskey as she made her way to the bar.

"Rough day?" he asked with a surprisingly sympathetic tone.

"You don't know the half of it," Emma replied.

"I know how you feel about having your drinks bought for you but I insist that this one is on the house," Killian said as he pushed the tumbler towards her. "It's the least I can do for John Doe's savior."

"Savior? You sound like Henry," Emma laughed. "You should probably wait for Mary Margaret to come in and give this drink to her. She's the one who saved him, not me."

"The school teacher doesn't really frequent this establishment," he said with a wink as he leaned in closer.

"Well, I wouldn't want it to go to waste," Emma said. She picked up the drink and sipped at the strong liquor he had poured for her without looking away from Killian's blue stare. She realized that they had been looking at each other a little too long and she thought that she needed to say something. "You're not surprised that I'm still in town?"

"You'll find that very little surprises me, love," Killian said. Their gaze was still on each other's face as if they were both searching for something beyond the words they were saying. Emma suddenly felt very exposed and it wasn't an entirely uncomfortable feeling. As if he sensed it he pushed back from the bar and busied himself with washing some of the glasses and she was thankful for the distraction.

She continued to sip the expensive drink as she stole glances at him. She wondered what it was about him that made her feel so drawn to him. He was tall, dark and handsome, of course but she had found that attractive men were easy to find. Maybe it was the blue eyes that made him so appealing. Or the accent. Those things certainly didn't hurt but Emma knew she was only fooling herself. There was something else about him, something that she hadn't felt in a long time.

"How is he doing?"

"Huh? Who?"

"John Doe," he chuckled.

"Oh! His name is David," she said. "He's doing good, I guess. He's got a wife."

"I wasn't asking about his marital status."

"I know what you were asking," Emma said. "They say he should make a full recovery once he gets his memories back."

"He doesn't remember anything?" he asked.

"No," she said. "The first thing he remembered was Mary Margaret waking him up."

"Why did you mention her?"

"Because she is the one who woke him up," Emma said.

"Not her," Killian said. "The wife. Why did you mention that he had a wife?"

"It just seemed strange to me," Emma told him. "He's been in a coma for so long and no one came looking for him. It just doesn't feel right."

"You have a lot of suspicions about our town," he observed. "Makes me wonder why you decided to stay."

"I thought you weren't surprised," she teased.

"Surprise and curiosity are not the same thing," he said.

"I'm here for Henry," she answered honestly. "I don't know what it is but something feels off. He's not happy and I just can't leave until I feel like he is."

"Perhaps he will only be happy as long as you stay," Killian suggested.

Emma considered that as she took another sip. "I just feel like he needs me – at least he does right now and I don't know what I should do. I've never had someone need me before."

"Never?"

"Well, not in the good way. I guess I've had plenty of people use me before," she admitted.

"That explains why you want to stay," Killian said. "You want to make sure Henry doesn't grow up with the same feeling that no one needs him."

"Maybe," she felt like she had opened up too much. "Well, I don't know how long I can even stay. Apparently I'm not welcome at Granny's anymore."

"Oh, no?" Killian raised an eyebrow. "Where are you staying then?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she teased.

"Perhaps I would," he answered seriously.

She thought about lying but she's already told him a lot tonight, what was one more piece of embarrassing information? "In my car for now," she said. Emma suddenly had to laugh. "Henry thinks I can break some curse but I can't even find a bed to sleep in."

"I have a rather large bed that you are welcome to stay in any time," he offered with a grin and a suggestive look.

Emma rolled her eyes. Was it impossible for him to get through an entire conversation without flirting? "Thanks, but I think my car sounds more appealing."

"Don't fool yourself, love," he said. "I don't make that proposition to just anyone."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're very scrupulous," she said as she downed the rest of the drink. "I think I'll just thank you for the free drink and be on my way."

"Goodnight, Emma," he said as he cleared her glass. "I hope you find a place to stay. It's going to be cold tonight."

"Goodnight," she said with a half-smile. She wasn't looking forward to braving the cold in her bug but what else could she do?

As she walked to her car she could feel the chill in the air already. Maybe she could go sit at Granny's until they closed. She might not be able to stay there but she was sure she could still eat there. It seemed like a dismal prospect .. sitting in the diner night after night.

She remembered that Mary Margaret had offered her a spare room last night. At the time she was too proud but after Regina's reminder today maybe it wouldn't hurt Emma to try living with someone. Mary Margaret seemed like she would be a good roommate and maybe even a good friend.

Emma made up her mind. She was going to try something new.


	4. After 1x04

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place following the events of 1x04 'The Price of Gold'

_I'll see you Monday morning._

Emma couldn't stop thinking about roots. She could have roots; she was planting them right now. She had a job where she actually was on the payroll, a cozy loft to stay in with a roommate that was probably the best friend she had ever had, a son that she had thought she would have never had a chance to get to know – a handsome boss. She shook her head at the thought. She shouldn't think about Graham that way but it was hard not to. He was handsome … and charming, and funny, and sweet … and a sheriff. He wasn't the type of guy that she normally would be attracted to; he was actually nice. He was the kind of guy that women are supposed to be attracted to; polite, good job … respectable.

Her life had changed in just a few days and now here she was pushing a shopping cart through the produce department of Storybrooke's only grocery store. Emma eyed the fruits and vegetables, wondering what Mary Margaret would like to eat. She knew that Granny's takeout was probably not what the school teacher would think of as a home cooked dinner. Emma had probably spoken too soon when she told her friend that she wanted to make dinner to thank her for the place to stay; she had very little experience with cooking anything more complicated than toast.

"Are you lost, love?" she heard the familiar voice and the too familiar endearment coming from behind her and she felt the color rise to her cheeks. If Graham was the right sort of guy then Killian was the exact opposite.

She turned around to see him standing with a shopping basket hooked over his left arm. In his right hand he was opening one of the plastic bags to drop some green peppers into it. She was actually impressed at how easy the task was for him, she had two hands but had managed to rip three nags before she was able to open one to put a cucumber into it. After that ordeal she hadn't attempted anything else.

"I'm not lost, I'm shopping," she said. Of course she would run into him here. She wasn't used to living in a small town and running into people she knew everywhere she went. She suddenly wondered how long she had been lost in thought and not noticed him in the same department. A glance at his nearly full basket made her think it had been a while.

Killian glanced into the shopping cart and raised an eyebrow when he saw the lone cucumber. "And what is it you are trying to make?"

Emma glared at him. "Dinner for Mary Margaret," she replied flatly. "I wanted to thank her for giving me a place to stay by cooking dinner but … I don't really have much experience with cooking."

Killian laughed. "That doesn't surprise me in the least."

"Yeah, well, glad I could amuse you," Emma said. "Nice seeing you again, Killian, but I have to figure something out so I guess I will see later." She pushed on the handle of her shopping cart in an attempt to make a quick getaway into one of the aisles but the wheels were turned the other way and she ended up slamming the cart into a display of stacked cantaloupes and a few of them came loose and bounced onto the ground.

"Here, let me help you," Killian said, placing his basket on the ground and palming one of the fruits that rolled by his feet. Despite her embarrassing accident he wasn't laughing anymore and she was grateful for that. "So, you're staying with the school teacher? I suppose that means you will be in town for a while?"

"Yeah," Emma said. "Not only that but I have a job, too."

"Is that so? I'm happy to hear that," he said. "The Rabbit Hole could use some regular customers."

"Oh, I don't think so," she said, putting the last cantaloupe on top of the stack. "I'm going to be working for the sheriff as a deputy. I don't think drinking at the local bar is the best way to establish my authority in a new town."

A look of disappointment flashed across Killian's face so quickly that Emma wondered if she had imagined it. Just as quickly it was replaced by a devilish grin. "Are handcuffs issued along with the uniform?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Okay, well, thanks for your help but I really do have to figure out what I'm going to do for dinner tonight."

"It was a pleasure running into you, Deputy," Killian said with a slight bow. Emma had to laugh at the gesture.

"Nice seeing you, Killian."

He walked toward the cash register and then stopped and turned back around. "Pasta."

"Huh?"

"Spaghetti, some sauce, a salad … don't forget the dressing," he went on. "It's very hard to mess up cooking pasta. If I know Mary Margaret she will be happy with the thought."

Emma smiled. "Thanks for the tip," she said. "I think I can handle that."

"And you already have an ingredient for the salad," he said, motioning to the cucumber in her cart.

She laughed. "I guess I do."

"Good luck with the new job," he said with a smile.

"Thanks." Emma smiled back at him. The moment lasted a beat too long and Killian must have felt it, too because he suddenly nodded and turned around to continue on to pay for his groceries.

Emma turned back to the produce and started adding some items to her cart that she thought she could put together into a decent salad. A quick trip around the store and she had what she needed to put a meal on the table. She was just about to check out when she looked at the cart and remembered what Killian had said. She had forgotten the dressing. She wheeled the cart around to go pick up a bottle.

Yeah, definitely the wrong kind of guy.


	5. After 1x06

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is right after she catches Graham leaving Regina's house ... and it's definitely Rated M ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this story isn't too hard to follow. So far everything that happens in Season 1 is canon and I'm picking up at different points in the episodes. I'm just imagining what if Killian was there all along and fitting it in.

_You can finish my shift. I'm done working nights._

Emma threw the car keys at Graham and stormed away.

Figures. Of course he was sleeping with the mayor … and lying about it. Emma had him pegged as the right kind of guy; the kind of guy she _should_ be going out with. She thought maybe this time she had actually picked the nice guy to be attracted to. She should have known better. If Emma Swan thinks someone is a good guy then odds are they're the exact opposite.

Luckily Graham had enough sense to leave her alone. She did not want to talk to him, not about this, not about anything. Regina was pure evil and he was _sleeping_ with her? Emma had heard the confession but still couldn't believe that it was true. And with Henry asleep in the next room? Ugh, disgusting.

Emma had every intention of going home to the loft and taking a long, hot shower to try and scrub the memory off but she knew that Mary Margaret was meeting David tonight and if things went well they could hardly go back to his place. Emma needed a place that was quiet and dark … a place where she could wallow in her problems and no one would judge her. The only thing better than washing away the image of Graham sneaking out of Regina's bedroom window would be obliterating it with a good, stiff drink.

Even for a weekday The Rabbit Hole was dead. A couple was leaving the bar as she entered and one lone patron was nursing a beer at one end of the bar. Emma realized that it was probably close to last call so she slid into an empty seat at the other end and waited. Killian was behind the bar with his back to her and if he had seen her come in he didn't give any indication of it.

"Here on official business?" Killian asked without turning around. Of course he had seen her. "As you can see there is nothing unseemly happening in my establishment tonight."

"I came in for a glass of whatever it is you poured me the other night," Emma said. "Maybe two."

"Last call was five minutes ago, Deputy Swan," he said. "I'm just waiting for Mickey here to finish that beer so I can close for the night."

Emma leaned in a little and whispered, "I'll be quick."

Killian didn't break eye contact. "Get out, Mick."

"I'll leave when I've finished my beer," the man at the bar drawled. He had clearly already had enough.

Killian turned to him. "If you leave right now your drinks tonight are on the house."

The man's eyes widened and he hastily made his way to the door, leaving the half empty beer on the bar. Killian followed him and issued a warning about walking straight home before he locked the door behind him.

"I trust I won't find myself in any trouble for serving liquor past the time that my license permits?" Killian asked as he produced a clean glass in front of her and poured the dark amber liquid into it. He placed another glass next to the bottle and walked around the bar to sit in the seat next to her.

"Not tonight," she promised as she tilted the contents of the glass down her throat. The smooth liquor hardly burned but she could feel its effects almost immediately. Warmth spread through her body all the way to her toes.

"Another?" Killian asked. Emma held out her glass to him and he poured her another drink before pouring one into his own glass. "This liquor is mean to be sipped, love."

"I'm not really here for sipping," Emma said as she threw back the second drink and held out her glass again. Killian held the bottle away from her. "Don't disappoint me now, Killian."

"If getting drunk is all you're looking for there are a lot of cheaper options available," he suggested.

"Nah," Emma said. She put the glass on the bar and pushed it closer to him. "I'm not interested in anything cheap."

"Then I'll ask that you show some appreciation for what I'm pouring you," he said as he tipped the bottle into her glass and pushed it back in front of her.

"Thank you, Killian," she said, overemphasizing each word. She raised the glass to her lips and took a sip of it, letting the strong liquid spread over her tongue before swallowing it.

"There's a good girl." He put the bottle aside and picked up his own glass. "Tell me, love, what has gotten into you tonight?"

"None of your business," Emma said with a little smile.

"A few days ago you told me that I wouldn't be seeing you. Now you're here looking vexed and clearly on a mission to get inebriated. You came to my bar, darling," he looked her directly in the eye. "You're here for a reason, what is it?"

His emphasis on the _t_ drew Emma's attention to his mouth and once it did it was all she could think about. As usual he noticed and she saw the smirk form on his lips. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the glass in front of her, tilting it in her hands and watching the way the liquid clung to the side of the glass.

"Just as well," Killian said, sitting back a little. "You probably couldn't handle it."

Emma slammed the glass down on the bar and grabbed the collar of Killian's black button-down with both hands and hauled his mouth to hers. He dropped his own glass and it smashed on the floor, not that anyone noticed.

His hand was in her hair, pulling her even closer to him. She stood up from her stool and pressed her body against him as the kiss deepened. Her hands left his collar and explored his lean frame. She could feel the muscle underneath the thin fabric of his shirt and she longed to feel the heat of his skin against hers. She tugged a little at his belt and Killian moved to stand up from his seat, never breaking their kiss. He moved her backwards until she felt the wall behind her and only then did his mouth move from hers to travel down her throat.

His tongue found a spot on her neck that had her gasping with pleasure and he slid her blue leather jacket from her shoulders, letting it fall in a heap at her feet. She shivered but it wasn't from the cold. He slowly unbuttoned her jeans and slipped in his hand as his mouth continued doing wicked things to her neck. If she hadn't been so absorbed by what he was doing to her she might have been embarrassed by how wet she already was but there was an ache in her core that she needed to be released.

She bucked her hips forward to urge him on and he slipped one finger lower to find the evidence of her desire. He practically growled when he slid another finger into her slick heat and she felt her knees go weak. Emma began to grind her hips wantonly against his hand and she cried out when his two fingers sank into her. His mouth at her throat was practically the only thing anchoring her against the wall as her hips were desperately rocked against his hand. Her fingers raked through his dark hair as she felt the pleasure rise and rise until it crashed over her and she forgot all the reasons that she had been upset.

Killian held onto her as he felt her body tense and tremble and finally go as limp as a rag doll. When she was steady again he slipped his hand back out. She opened her eyes to see Killian with a satisfied grin on his face slip two fingers into his mouth to taste her and her mind began to race.

_What had she done? This wasn't what she came in here for … was it? She had just wanted to have a drink to numb the pain and disappointment … she hadn't meant to be pressed against the wall letting the handsome bartender get her off … but fuck it was just too tempting._

"That was …" Killian began.

"A mistake," Emma said abruptly. She started hastily buttoning up her jeans. "I'm sorry, Killian. I shouldn't have come in here tonight."

His face darkened. "No, you probably shouldn't have."

"I'm sorry," she said again. "It was a bad idea and it won't happen again."

"It's alright, love. I understand," he said, his tone lighter but his face still looked menacing. "You can't get what you want from the sheriff so you come to the wrong side of the tracks to get what you need from the barkeep."

"It's not like that!" Emma protested as she shrugged her jacket over her shoulders.

"Isn't it?" he asked. "Because I'm actually quite perceptive you know and this feels an awful lot like being used."

"I didn't use you," Emma said quietly. "This has nothing to do with Graham."

"You don't have to lie to me, Emma," Killian said. "I run the only bar in town. You're the only visitor we've had in a long time, people gossip."

"Then ignore it," she said, her voice rising. "There is nothing going on between me and Graham."

"Can you do me favor and not say his bloody name?" Killian shouted. "I still have your taste in my mouth, Emma. I don't need to hear the name of the guy you are trying to forget."

She opened her mouth to yell back at him but she stopped herself. "I didn't mean to use you," she said.

"Happy to be of service," he shot back.

She didn't know what to say to that. The silence stretched for a few moments until Emma pulled out her wallet. "How much do I owe you for the drinks?"

"Consider them paid for."

"Fuck you," Emma spat at him. She turned on her heel and headed for the door.

"We didn't get that far, love," Killian called after her. "I suppose you'll need to be really heartbroken for that to happen."

She unlocked the door and didn't look back as she let it slam shut behind her. She managed to get all the way across the street before the tears that she'd been holding back all night finally overwhelmed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the angst but I had to because in 1x07 Emma assumes Mary Margaret's flowers are from Graham and I had to leave off things really bad with Killian so she couldn't possibly consider they were from him. I'm trying really hard to make this work with all the canon of Season 1!


	6. 1x07 and after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starts off briefly at the beginning of 1x07 and then all the sad events occur and it picks up a week after.

The next morning Emma was grateful for one thing: expensive liquor didn't generally leave her with a hangover. Other than that, pretty much everything else about the way she felt was shitty. If she wasn't so angry about her situation she could have laughed at herself. She had spent the last decade avoiding complicated situations and now she found herself caught between two men, neither of which was any good for her. She needed to shut both of them out and focus on the one person that really mattered. Henry.

Downstairs she found Mary Margaret was already gone for the day. Good, she didn't want to talk about it and she knew her friend would catch on that something was wrong. Emma was determined to spend the day hiding from everyone.

~~~ _One Week Later_ ~~~

Emma sat at her desk in the sheriff's office and looked over her shoulder at the empty office behind her. It had been one of the worst weeks of her life. Graham's autopsy results had come back to show that he had an aneurysm. She still couldn't believe that he was gone. She had put on a brave face and carried on her duties at the station as best she could. Mary Margaret had been a great help making sure that she remembered to eat and go to sleep at a decent hour. She was the type of friend that Emma had never had before but she felt guilty that she should be more supportive in return since it was clear that her roommate was having trouble dealing with her own heartbreak over David Nolan deciding to stay with his wife.

Emma stared at the spot on the floor where Graham had died in her arms. She had sobbed uncontrollably that night as she held tight to his lifeless body. The pain she felt was unbearable but strangely like welcoming back an old friend. She had hardened her heart for so long that she forgot how familiar the despair felt to her. After his body had been taken away and all the questions were answered she had gone home and cried herself to sleep; something she hadn't done since she was in prison. Graham was a good man; a man she could have loved. And now he was gone.

Even worse, Henry was avoiding her. He must be taking the news of Graham's death hard and she wanted to comfort him so badly but it was almost like he refused to see her. She had waited for him to be dropped off by his school bus a couple days ago and the only greeting she got was a mumbled "My mom is expecting me at home." Regina scheduled extra sessions with Dr. Hopper to help him cope and Emma figured that Archie could probably help him more now than she could so she kept her distance.

It made her feel very alone.

A tapping sound made Emma jump and she turned to see Killian standing at the entrance to the station holding a bag that she recognized as Granny's takeout. She looked at the clock and realized that it was almost eight and she hadn't even noticed it getting dark outside.

"I might have overheard Miss Blanchard at the diner worrying about our town's deputy," Killian said as walked into the room and placed the bag down on the desk in front of her. "I have it on good authority that you can't say no to a grilled cheese and some hot cocoa with cinnamon."

"Ruby," Emma guessed and Killian nodded. Her stomach suddenly remembered that it had been morning the last time she ate anything and she tore into the bag with a little more eagerness than she intended. "Thank you."

He pulled up a seat next to her desk and sat with her in silence while she devoured the meal he had brought for her. She held out the bag of onion rings and they shared the rest of them until every last crumb was gone. Emma sipped the lukewarm cocoa in the Styrofoam cup and eyed him curiously.

"Got anything stronger?" she asked.

Killian grinned and produced a flask from his jacket pocket. She took a swig of it and recognized the taste as the expensive drink that he had introduced her too. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "Only the best for you, love."

"Thank you," she said, hoping that he recognized the sincerity in her voice.

"I didn't know if you'd want to see me but I came to offer my condolences," Killian said, dropping his gaze to his feet. "The sheriff and I weren't friends but he was a good man and didn't deserve to have his life cut short."

"No, he didn't," Emma whispered. She could feel the tears start to well in her eyes but she hadn't cried in front of anyone since the night it had happened and she didn't intend to start now. "So, you thought you'd come here and get me drunk?"

"Hardly, Swan," he said with an eye roll. He stopped looking at the floor and focused on her in a way that Emma wasn't prepared for. "I just thought you might be in need of some comforting."

She laughed. "I'm sure I know exactly what you have in mind and it's not going to -"

"I'm sure you don't have any idea what I have in mind," Killian interrupted. "So just stop with your assumptions and let me explain why I came to see you tonight."

Emma sat back in her chair with a huff and folded her arms across her chest. For a moment he didn't say anything so she gestured with one hand for him to continue.

"You've been through a terrible ordeal, Emma," he went on. "I'm here because you're new in town and other than your roommate I don't think you've made any close connections yet. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop but I couldn't help but hear the concern in Mary Margaret's voice."

"I don't want to burden her," Emma confessed. "She had her own problems right now, she doesn't need mine."

"That's rubbish, Swan," Killian said flatly.

"Don't act like you know me so well," she said, turning away.

"You're right, I don't know you very well," he admitted. "But I do know me and I'd do the same thing that you are doing."

"What am I doing?"

"Shutting people out, putting up walls." Emma opened her mouth to object but Killian just held up his hand and continued on. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing. You're protecting yourself and at a time like this who can blame you? I'm just offering a night off from that."

"What does that even mean?" Emma asked.

"Come on, love," Killian stood up and offered his hand to her. "Let's go sit down on the couch. It's a lot more comfortable." Emma shot him a skeptical look and he rolled his eyes. "For Christ's sake, Emma I am not here with any ulterior motives so you can stop looking at me like all I want is to get in your pants. Can you just bloody trust me?"

She hesitated for a second and then put her hand in his and let him lead her over to the couch that was against the wall. They both sat down and she waited for him to tell her what this is all about.

"I'm going to ask you something and I don't want you to overthink your answer, okay?"

She nodded.

"Would you like me to hold you for a while?" he asked. Emma searched his eyes, still wary of this unexpected tender side of the bartender. Their last encounter had ended just about as badly as it could and with the trust issues that she had it was almost impossible to believe that he could be offering this selfless comfort to her. Except it was possible because she couldn't see any deception in his eyes; that truth was that he just wanted to help her.

"I haven't been held in a really wrong time," she told him.

"I know, Swan," he said. He held out his arm and she carefully moved into his embrace, letting him wrap both arms protectively around her. She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes listening to the steady beat of his heart. He placed a chaste kiss on the top of her forehead and began to gently rub her back.

It took her a moment to relax completely but when she did she could practically feel the walls that she had built up over the past crumble bit by bit. The sadness welled up in her eyes again and this time she didn't try to stop them. A flood of emotion seemed to be pouring out of her and she realized that her tears were falling onto his shirt.

She abruptly sat up. "I'm sorry, I'm making your shirt get all wet."

Killian pulled her slowly back to his chest and his hand went to her hair. "Shhhh, Emma," he whispered. "I don't care if you soak my shirt through. Just relax, there's no one here but you and me." His fingers stroked through her hair and it felt as if he was extracting all the pain and anger and stress of the last week out of her body. She breathed in the scent of him and snuggled closer as she let herself cry on his shoulder. Until this very moment she hadn't realized how lonely her life had been. Being held by him was giving her such an oddly familiar calm that she couldn't remember the last time she had experienced it.

Well, she could but she pushed that thought out of her mind and focused on the way it felt to be in his arms. He was well built but she already knew that from the memory of her hands trailing over his body that night in his empty bar. What she hadn't remembered from that encounter was the way he smelled like a mixture of the cool night air with a faint hint of soap. Last time she had probably only smelled the rum but not tonight. Tonight the scent was comforting and she buried her face further into his chest as the tears began to subside.

He was warm and it seemed to radiate around him because even the parts of her that weren't enveloped in his embrace felt the heat. His touch was soothing and she found that she was getting drowsy from the even sound of his breathing accompanied by the reassuring thrum of his heartbeat against her ear.

She felt better. Emma was amazed at how much better she felt. She felt so much better that she suddenly was very aware of how intimate they must look, snuggled on the couch of the sheriff's station together. As if he sensed her reaction his fingers stopped moving through her hair and he slowly moved one arm back to his own space.

She sat up and wiped away the moisture from her eyes and laughed nervously at the wet spot she had left on his chest. Killian smiled back at her in a way that she knew was meant to be reassuring but she could already feel the walls that she had grown so accustomed to reforming around her. It was not a good idea to spend any more time alone with this man. The doubt started creeping in, reminder her that it's a bad idea to trust anyone.

"It's late," she said, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the room. "I think I should probably go home now." She looked at him somberly and hoped that he would just take the hint and let her go.

"As you wish," he said and she breathed an audible sigh of relief that he had the good sense to pretend that he didn't hear. He stood up and walked to the exit, not turning back.

"Hey, Killian," she called after him. He stopped and turned to face her. "Thank you for dinner … and for everything else."

"You're welcome, Emma." She grinned as he dipped in a small bow. "Goodnight, love."

He left and Emma made her rounds of the office, shutting off lights and pulling the blinds shut. That was not what she expected but she had to admit that it was exactly what she needed.

Damnit, she had to stop this bad habit she had developed of opening herself up. She knew where it would lead and she only had room in her life for Henry. She had to focus on him and think about what was best for him. Getting involved with someone was what led her to lose Henry in the first place and she was not going to let that happen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one hurt. RIP Graham


	7. After 1x08

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma answers a call at Killian's bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It isn't clear how much time passes after 1x08 when Emma wins the sheriff's election so this chapter takes place during that time. :)

"Sheriff's station," Emma answered the phone with all the professionalism she could muster.

"There's a fight here," the voice on the other end of the phone said.

"Okay, where is here?" she asked.

"The Rabbit Hole." Of course. Emma's first official call as the sheriff would just have to be at Killian's bar. "You'd better hurry; this isn't going to be pretty."

"I'm on my way," she said. "Can I get your name?"

"I'd rather not say," the person said. "I don't want to get involved in this feud."

Emma grabbed the keys to the sheriff's car and headed out the door of the station. Flipping on the lights she drove the short distance over to the town's only late night establishment. It was getting near closing time and she braced herself for what was no doubt some drunken misunderstanding. What she found when she walked through the front door was much, much worse.

"Calm down, Tucker," Emma heard Killian say. His voice was calm and steady but the situation was anything but. It seemed that most of the patrons had cleared out of the bar but over by the pool table was a small group. Emma quickly deduced that Tucker must be the guy that was holding a broken beer bottle to the throat of another young man. Killian was standing a few feet away in a defensive stance trying to diffuse the situation.

"Drop the weapon and back away," Emma commanded, drawing her gun from the holster at her hip.

"Tucker, listen to her," a female voice pleaded. "Please, don't get into trouble."

"Jessica, he's only after you for one reason," Tucker said in response. "I'm not going to stand for this disrespect and you know your father won't either."

"It's not like that, man," the guy at the other end of the broken bottle said. His voice was broken and he looked desperately at Jessica.

"Hey!" Emma shouted. "I said drop the weapon!"

Tucker looked over at her and saw the gun pointed at him. His face went white and he did as he was asked; he took a step back and dropped the beer bottle to the ground. Killian kicked it out of his reach.

"Thank you," Emma said. She lowered her gun but didn't put it away yet. "Now, you guys want to tell me what's going on here?"

Over the next hour Emma gathered everyone's information and let everyone go that wasn't directly involved in the incident. Killian went back behind his bar to clean up for the night. When it was just Tucker, Jessica and the third guy – whose name was Ryan – Emma found out that it was just a bar fight that had escalated a little too quickly.

"I love her," Ryan exclaimed. "And he just thinks it's all an act."

"It is all an act," Tucker said. "Jessica is my cousin and our families hate each other. The only thing he is interested in is causing more trouble."

"And what do you think, Jessica?" Emma asked.

"She knows better.." Tucker began but Emma held up her hand to stop him mid-sentence.

"I asked her."

"I love Ryan," Jessica said. "It doesn't make any sense but I do. Ryan's not trying to trick me. We just want to get married but our families don't approve."

"Star-crossed lovers, huh?" Emma said with a smile. She turned toward Ryan and looked him in the eye. "Is that all you want? Just to marry the girl you love?"

"Yes," Ryan said. "It's our families that don't get along. Why should that stop us?"

Emma listened to his answer and searched his face. He was telling the truth. "Listen, Tucker. I'm going to do you a favor and let you off with a really big warning. You need to let your cousin make her own decisions."

"She's making a mistake," Tucker mumbled.

"Then it's her mistake to make," Emma told him. "She's a grown woman and she gets to make her own choices. If I hear that you or your families caused any more trouble for these two then I will make it my business to make sure no one gets another off on a warning again, got it?"

"Got it," they each said.

Emma let Jessica and Ryan leave and held Tucker behind for a while. She didn't want the argument to continue on the street. After about ten minutes she let him go with a reminder of the warning that she had given him. By the time the whole incident was dealt with it was way after midnight.

"Care for a nightcap, sheriff?" Killian offered, locking the door after Tucker left.

"Can't," she said. "I don't drink and sheriff."

"It seems to me that your sheriffing is done for the night," Killian pointed out. "I haven't had a chance to congratulate you on your impressive defeat of the news man."

It wasn't an accident that he hadn't run into her. Emma had been avoiding him successfully up until tonight when she had no other choice. Their last encounter had left her feeling vulnerable and that was not what she needed to feel, especially not around a guys like Killian. But now that she was alone with him again she couldn't seem to leave.

"One drink," she said. "I have to get a statement from you anyway."

Killian grinned and took the familiar bottle off the shelf and poured two drinks for them. He placed them on the bar but this time he didn't come to sit next to her. Instead he leaned on the bar and clinked his glass against hers. "To the new sheriff of Storybrooke."

Emma sipped her drink this time, careful to keep her wits about her. She was expecting Killian to bring up their night in the sheriff's station and she had no idea what she would say if he did. She smiled to herself when she imagined just bolting out the front door.

"Something funny, Swan?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Not really," she answered as the color rose to her cheeks.

"I can only imagine what you must have been thinking if it made you blush like that," he said, watching her closely.

Emma only blushed more and rolled her eyes. "In your dreams."

"If you knew the role you played in my dreams you would be blushing a lot more than that, love," Killian said in a low voice.

Emma locked eyes with him. She should probably be offended by what he was saying but instead she was relieved. She could take his flirting and innuendo; she couldn't take a discussion about her opening up to him. It would be better to just keep this relationship what it was – a mutual physical attraction. "Oh, yeah?" she said with a smile. "Try me."

Killian raised his eyebrows. "Ooh, I do love a challenge," he said. "But a gentleman never tells."

"So now you decide to be a gentleman?" she asked flatly.

"You wound me, Emma," Killian said, placing his hand dramatically over his heart. "When have I not been a gentleman?"

She scoffed. "How about the last time I was here?"

"I seem to recall you were the one acting like a scoundrel that night," he accused with a smile. "You came here looking to scratch an itch and I was just the man to do it. And then you left me unsatisfied."

It was Emma's turn to raise her eyebrows. "And what satisfaction should you have had that night?" She paused for a moment wondering how this odd exchange sounded so vaguely familiar.

"Whatever the lady pleased, of course" Killian said. "But my lady apparently thought the best course of action was to run out the door."

"And the self-proclaimed gentleman decided the best course of action was to hurl insults at me as I left," she countered.

"Touché," he conceded. "I may have been out of line. So let me offer you something that I don't usually offer to anyone. My apology."

She hadn't expected that. "Apology accepted," she said. She kept her eyes cast down to her drink. She didn't want to know if he was sincere.

"You didn't have to run out on me, though," he said in a low voice.

"Oh, but I really did," Emma said. She swallowed the rest of her drink. "And I'm afraid I have to do the same thing tonight. Thanks for the drink." She took out her wallet and pushed some cash across the bar before quickly heading for the door.

"Getting too intense for you?"

"Hardly," she replied; wheeling around to face him. "I just can't very well leave the sheriff's car sitting out front of the bar while I sit and have a couple drinks."

"I see, so you're worried about what people will think," Killian said. He stepped out from behind the bar and walked closer to where she stood near the exit.

"I just need to get the car back to the station," she said again.

"No, I think there's more to it than that," he said.

She shook her head. "You can think whatever you want. Goodnight, Killian." She turned around and opened the door to leave.

"Swan."

"What?" she asked a little too loudly.

"Your keys." She looked back and saw him standing there with her keys dangling in his hand. "You left them on the bar."

He didn't make a move so she stepped forward and reached out to take them. When her hand connected with his she shivered and the keys fell to the floor. Neither of them moved to pick them up. It suddenly felt like the two of the in this room were the only residents of the small town that were still awake. Emma found herself mesmerized by the blue of his eyes. They were as bright as the sky on a cloudless day but had flecks of deep blue that was the color of the ocean during a storm; she had never noticed how intensely he looked at her – or maybe she had but didn't want to recognize it. Without thinking she linked their fingers together and closed the distance between her and the darkly handsome bartender. She rose up on her tip toes and forgot to remind herself of all the reasons she shouldn't be doing this.

The kiss was everything that their last encounter wasn't. This time she felt the softness of his lips as he lowered his head to meet her halfway. None of the groping passion was present, just an achingly tender need to be consumed by the moment. Emma's mouth opened for him when she felt his tongue run gently over her bottom lip. Their hands unlinked and she raked her fingers through his dark hair. Killian's arms encircled her waist and she felt herself relax into his embrace. Her heart was beating rapidly as his tongue swept into her mouth. A small sigh escaped from her throat and he responded with his own appreciative moan.

His mouth moved away from hers and he began kissing a slow line down her jaw to her throat. Emma wanted so badly to lose herself in this. She'd already had a taste of what Killian could do to her in the bedroom. She could go back to his place and spend the night and maybe even have some kind of no strings attached arrangement until she decided it was time to move on … except she wasn't planning on moving on this time. She was here to stay, right? She had a job, a great place to live …

"Hey, where'd you go?" Killian asked suddenly. Emma realized that her racing thoughts had won out and he had known the instant it happened.

"I … I have to go," Emma said. She pressed her forehead against his. "I don't want to but I have to."

"The car might be spotted," he said. "I understand."

"Well, there's that," she began. "But ... I just … I can't get involved. I have to focus on Henry right now."

"No, there's more to it than that," Killian said.

She really needed to get better at lying to this man. "I just have to go," she repeated.

He leaned down and picked up her keys before opening the door for her. "Goodnight, Sheriff Swan."

She hesitated for a moment. "Goodnight, Killian."

The door closed behind her and she headed back to her waiting car. She climbed into the driver's seat and leaned her head against the steering wheel. She remembered now why she had spent the last year trying to avoid any kind of emotional connection. It always led to heartbreak and disappointment. Killian might seem like a nice distraction but she knew that she could too easily let herself be carried away thinking that he was something that he was not.

She turned the key in the ignition and drove quietly back to the sheriff's station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time people ask what stories I would like to see on the show one always comes to mind. I changed the names but put a few not too subtle references into this chapter ... did you catch it? :)


	8. After 1x09

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian and Emma have a chat by the docks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually like to write from both POVs. This story will mostly be from Emma's perspective but I will throw in chapters for Killian as well. Here's one now:

Killian used to not care who was coming in every time he heard the door to The Rabbit Hole open but now he couldn't stop himself from glancing over in the hopes that Sheriff Swan would find a reason to visit him again. Night after night he watched for her but she didn't make an appearance.

He had taken to waiting a few minutes after closing time before he locked the door, just in case she decided to drop in. When he would finally turn the lock he alternated between sighing in disappointment and cursing himself for being such a fool. A woman like Emma wasn't going to take up with the likes of him, no matter how attracted she clearly was. But he couldn't keep his mind from wandering when he was alone in the bar. He thought about the way her blonde curls bounced as she stomped out of the bar, or the rare smiles that she gave when she couldn't help herself, or the way her mouth was warm and inviting but somehow possessive all at the same time …

He felt as though his life had been a blur before she sat down at his bar. He had vague memories of long nights pouring drinks and nameless, faceless women sharing his bed for a few hours but there wasn't one substantial memory he could hang on to until Emma arrived. She was consuming his thoughts and being alone in the bar where they had shared a couple intimate moments was not helping. Paperwork be damned, he had to get some fresh air.

He walked the short distance to the docks and breathed in deeply. The salt air was exactly what he needed. He had no recollection of ever being on a boat but for some reason the ocean calmed him. At the moment it just looked like a great expanse of blackness as far as he could see but it was reassuring nonetheless.

"Are you following me?" he heard Emma's voice coming from behind him and turned to see her sitting on one of the benches with a file in front of her.

"I haven't seen you in days, love," Killian said. "How could I be following you? I just came out here to clear my head. I didn't expect to have company."

"I thought the same thing," she said, piling up the papers and closing them inside the file folder.

"Don't leave on account of me," he said. "I was only getting some air for a minute. You look like you're in the middle of something."

"I am," she agreed. "I was … I don't know."

"Something on your mind?"

"Are there really never any visitors here?" she asked.

"Not many that I can recall," he told her. "And you're the only one who stayed. I guess our town just doesn't carry much appeal to tourists."

"A man rode his motorcycle into town not too long ago," she went on. "Henry says that no one ever comes here and now this mysterious guy drops in and didn't want to give me his name."

"You spoke to him?" Killian didn't know why but he felt a small twinge of jealousy at this news. How ridiculous, a couple kisses hardly gave him any reason to be jealous.

"Yeah, I was talking with Henry and he just rode up and asked where he could find a place to stay," she said. "Strange, huh?"

"I suppose it is," Killian agreed. "If I may ask, what are you still doing out here?"

"Same as you, just looking for a quiet place," she said. She paused for a moment and Killian was about to take the hint and head home until she suddenly went on. "I had a case that I closed today that hit kind of close to home. It got me thinking about some stuff and I just felt like being alone."

"I didn't mean to bother you, love," Killian said apologetically as he started back towards the street.

"Actually, now I wouldn't mind some company," she said softly. He looked down at her and her green eyes were shining from the lights around the harbor. There was no way he could resist her.

"Happy to oblige," he said as he sat down next to her on the bench. "You want to talk about the case?"

"It was a couple of kids. Orphans, actually. They'd been living on their own for a while and no one realized that they didn't have parents. Regina tried to ship them off to separate group homes in Boston but I managed to track down their father and he agreed to keep them." She had so much excitement in her voice at the end of the story that Killian couldn't help but smile. "I just feel like I'm really doing some good around here, you know?"

"You are, Emma," he said. "I don't think I've ever seen the mayor so upset in the entire time I've lived here."

"The mayor?" she asked. The smile fell from her face. "Do you … uh, see a lot of her?"

"Not frequently but she does like to have her hands in everything," Killian said. "She makes it hard to say no to her."

"Okay, I think I was wrong," Emma said abruptly. "I'd better get going home before Mary Margaret worries about me." She stood up and gathered her file in her arms.

Killian caught her hand in his before she could bolt. "Did I say something wrong, love?"

"Don't call me 'love'," she seethed at him as she yanked her hand away.

"Forgive me Sheriff Swan," he said formally. "I am getting whiplash from your back and forth. Here we were having a nice conversation and you suddenly want to storm off-"

"Look, whatever you're doing with the mayor is your business," she practically shouted. "I just don't want to know about it, okay?"

"Whatever I'm doing with the mayor?" he echoed. "I'm not doing anything with the mayor besides trying to stay off her radar so I can run my bar in peace."

It was Emma's turn to look down at him. She seemed to be searching his face for something and she must have found it because she sighed and sat back down next to him. "Sorry, the mayor and I just don't get along and she has had some connections with people that I care about that have been … surprising. I just assumed the worst."

"Well, let me put your mind at ease," Killian was beginning to understand what Emma was talking about. The rumors must have been true; the sheriff had literally been in bed with the mayor. "Regina is not the sort of woman that I would get involved with and I highly doubt that I am her type either. No need to worry about surprising connections between the two of us."

"Yeah, I wouldn't have thought that some other people would be her type either but that didn't stop her," Emma said.

"Well, what can I say? I'm hard to get," he joked.

Emma smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Well, I think we both know that's not true," she said, looking at him pointedly.

"Present company excluded, of course," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Yes, you're just so choosy," she teased.

"In fact, I am," he said. Emma met his eyes for a moment before looking down and he could see that the light flirting had gotten a little too serious for her. He decided it was time to change the subject. "Do you want to tell me what's in the file?"

She paused for a moment. "It's my past," she said as she opened it slowly. "Those orphans today … I just had to find their father. I couldn't let them be put into the foster system the way I was."

"I had no idea," Killian said softly.

"It's not something I usually share when I first meet someone," she said with a shrug. "But it's part of who I am."

"Do you know what happened to your parents?" he asked tentatively.

"Not a clue," she said with a nervous laugh. "They dropped me at the side of the road when I was a newborn and I was found by a seven year old. Here's the article about it."

She handed him to the newspaper clipping from the date she was found. He scanned the article and looked up at her. "This isn't far from Storybrooke."

"Nope," she said. She took back the article and tucked it back into the folder. "I was able to track down the father of those kids today and I had the silly idea that maybe if I looked through this stuff again I would find a clue as to who my parents really are."

"Did you?"

She shook her head. "Of course not. Whoever they were there wasn't a trace of them. All I had was my baby blanket with my name on it."

"I'm sorry, Emma," he said sincerely.

She breathed a heavy sigh and looked at him. "I have to go now."

"You say that to me a lot," he said. He was disappointed as always that she was cutting off their time together but he couldn't help but smile that she had let him in a little bit.

"I know, but I do need to get home," she said again.

"Shall I walk you out to the street?" he offered.

"I'd like that," she accepted.

They stood up and she tucked her arm around his as they made their way away from the docks together. When they reached the street she unlinked their arms and stood up to press her lips gently to his.

"Thank you, Killian," she said.

"Can I call you sometime?" he blurted out.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she seemed to think about it for a moment. "I think that would ne okay," she finally answered.

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Goodnight, Emma."

"Goodnight," she said as she walked towards the loft that she shared. Killian felt the chill in the night air as soon as she was gone. He turned and started towards his own lonely apartment.

He only made it a few feet when he saw Mr. Gold coming towards him down the sidewalk. It would be useless to try and hide now.

"Killian Jones," the man said. "I was expecting you to drop off your rent to me tonight."

"Of course, Mr. Gold," Killian said. "I was just about to head back to the bar and get it."

"It seems like the lovely Miss Swan was a bit of a distraction tonight." Gold pointed in the direction that she has left. Killian bristled at hearing the pawn shop owner say her name. He had heard about his involvement in the fire that Emma had escaped from; well, saves herself and Regina from.

"Sheriff Swan," Killian corrected.

"How could I forget?"

"I'll drop by the payment first thing in the morning, is that acceptable?" Killian asked.

Mr. Gold thought for a moment. "Of course; I am a reasonable man. I wouldn't want to get in the way of whatever is blossoming between you and the Sheriff. I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning."

Killian nodded and the men went their separate ways. His previously light hearted mood had darkened considerably. He touched the prosthetic hand and for a moment he almost felt as if the missing left hand was itching to curl into a fist but it passed to quickly that he thought he must have imagined it.


End file.
